The Rogue Pinkie
by HouseAddict16
Summary: Who knew that one finger would be enough to send House to see a doctor, in NYC! House! Sick fic House Wilson friendship
1. Chapter 1

**At last a new idea has struck!! Please let me know what you think of this so far, I know it's not much but reviews will send more your way!! Enjoy.**

The Rogue Pinkie

Ch. 1

He was sitting at the piano. Having just finished a lengthy piece he was resting his hands on the keys, deciding on what to play next. His right pinkie started shaking. It pulled him out of his thought process and he found himself staring at it. It was just failing uncontrollably. Not disturbing any other fingers, just shaking all alone. Thinking that it was just the stress of playing the piece, he made a fist and then straightened out his fingers, repeatedly to work the fatigue out of his hand. The tremor stopped, and the music began again.

He thought nothing of the pinkie incident until the next morning. Feeling completely exhausted after sleeping for 8 hours the alarm sounded. He slapped it off with his right hand and then returned it to the heavenly warm oasis that was his bed. Blinking off the remainder sleep he felt his pinkie twitching under the covers. The same way it did the previous night while at the piano. He flexed the hand several times and then proceeded with his day. In the back of his mind he knew something could be up.

The day was a normal one. Case to solve, lunch with Wilson, all the usual activities except the rogue pinkie. Every so often he would be resting his hands in some place, the desk top, a leg, in a pocket, and it would decide to just go crazy and start failing about. By the end of the day it was pissing him off enough that he made a phone call.

Being as smart medically as he is, he had a hunch. He wanted that hunch to be wrong. In calling Dr. Webber and making an appointment he hoped that he would tell him that everything was fine. That it was just a strained muscle, too much piano.

Knowing that gossip traveled faster than the speed of light at Princeton Plainsboro he specifically made an appointment with the Dr. Webber in New York City. It would be a bit of a trip, but it was worth it. He didn't want even his suspicions getting out. Completing the appointment for two days from then he had only one other hoop to jump through, taking time off.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hope you enjoy this relatively quick update. Thanks for the reviews so far!**

The Rogue Pinkie

Ch. 2

House of course barged into Cuddy's office without warning.

"And a good morning to you too."

"Yeah. I need some time off."

"How much and why?"

"Three days and its personal."

"5 clinic hours today will get you two days." She sat back and looked at him.

He thought about sitting down, but decided to remain standing. "Now what would make you think that this isn't an important matter?"

"Because when ever you ask for time off its never really important."

"True, but this time it is."

"Oh sure it is."

"Fine I'll just leave without your precious permission."

"I'm sure you will." She had a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

He turned to leave. "See you in three days." He said over his shoulder as he left.

Cuddy picked up the phone and called Wilson.

After a quick chat Cuddy knew nothing more about House and his personal matter than she did before the conversation. Wilson was going to look into it, but would probably come out with nothing as well.

Wilson approached him while House was in the office. Sitting alone, in the dim light behind his desk, he was pouring over a chart. He looked up when he heard the door, then returned to his file when he saw who it was. Wilson advanced to the desk and took a seat.

"Cuddy called you."

Wilson assumed he would already know this. He always did. "Yea. So what's up?"

"It's personal."

"Since when does that stop me from prying?"

"It's nothing."

"Personal with you is never just nothing."

"I don't even know what it is yet."

"I'm thoroughly confused."

"Good." Just then the phone rang. After a few yeahs and sighs he returned the phone to the receiver and got up. "My patient's crashing. See you in three days."

"Three days?" He called after him, but House was already gone.


	3. Chapter 3

The Rogue Pinkie

Ch. 3

House made a clean break from the hospital. After finishing with the case, he managed to avoid all contact with Cuddy, Wilson and the team. Figuring that they would bother him before he left the next morning, especially Wilson, he contemplated leaving that night instead of in the morning. Weighing such factors as his leg, the time of night, and his level of fatigue starting the drive that night was shot down.

Instead he locked the door and turned off the cell phone. The home phone remained on, for if he turned that off as well it was a guarantee that Wilson would use his key and get in. With the thought of Wilson and his key House got up and placed the chain across the door. Therefore Wilson could not get in, without some bolt cutters at least.

Sitting down on the couch, alcohol came to mind. Especially if this could potentially turn into his last chance for alcohol in a long time. By the time eleven o'clock rolled around he was pretty toasty and ready to sleep it off. Alcohol fully consumed he turned in to bed. Tomorrow a drive and an appointment waited.

Sleeping not as deeply as usual, for he half expected to hear Wilson's knock or the phone ring he was rudely awakened by the alarm. Groaning mentally at what the day had in store for him he got up. By ten o'clock he was dressed, packed and on the road. He stopped off somewhere for breakfast and occasionally for gasoline. Deciding not to leave Wilson completely on edge he turned on the cell phone and listened to the five messages Wilson had left the previous night.

A bunch of where are yous and why aren't you answering your phones, House dialed Wilson.

"House what's going on?"

"It's personal."

"Yeah, I got that yesterday."

"I have to do this on my own."

"Will you fill me in later? When you know more?" He knew something was going on, and from what Cuddy said it very well could have been medical. Nothing else was personal for House, at least nothing that he didn't ask Wilson about.

"In due course, of course."

"Lemme know."

"Bye."

House hung up. The more he even thought about talking about what he was about to do made him think about the possible results and he didn't like it. He didn't like confrontation.

He drove and drove until he thought he couldn't drive anymore, and then he was there.


	4. Chapter 4

**Props to you all! I didn't expect so many reviews by this time! Thanks a million. Hope you enjoy this chapter, I wrote it while in a weird mind set so if it sucks, only let me know a little. Enjoy.**

The Rogue Pinkie

Ch. 4

If he was nervous for his appointment he didn't show it as he approached the front entrance. The fact that no one knew him there, it was New York City and he was just another face in the waiting room brought him a sense of relief. At work he didn't want to seem like a patient or have people view him as a sick doctor, here it was all personal matters and only the physician knew that. Only the physician knew him.

He doesn't like waiting rooms. Cramped, cluttered, old magazines, how could an ill patient be comfortable in such surroundings? He checked in at the desk and then turned to the waiting room. He was glad to see that it was mostly vacant. Quiet, cool and calm, just the way he liked them. Taking a seat, he pulled out his iPod. He only read old magazines when they were medical journals.

The nurse called his name twice before he even looked up. By the time he was looking up it was because she had put a hand on his knee. She knew it was him, only because the doctor pointed her in the right direction. Meeting her eyes he paused the music and took out an ear bud.

"Dr. Webber is ready for you."

"Oh. Ok."

"Follow me please."

He started to stand and used his cane for support. She gave him a look of I'll help if you need it, but by his look back she knew that if he needed help he would ask. He was glad that she understood his look.

More waiting took place in Webber's office. Of course he was in with a patient, doctors were never on schedule. House took out his iPod again, but made the volume low so that he would hear the doctor come in. Drifting off into he own world once again, he waited.

Dr. Webber entered with gusto and House stood to greet him. After a brief hand shaking they resumed sitting and got right into the matter.

"So what brings you to see me?"

"My pinkie. It started flailing and spasming. I could stop it for a short time, but it kept recurring and well it really pissed me off."

"I know your credentials so what are you thinking it is?"

"It could be a variety of things, but without tests my mind says Parkinson's."

He feared that diagnosis, but he wasn't going to show weakness, he had just shown enough by admitting that much to a stranger.

"Well you know what we will do now. Scans and tests. How long are you in town?"

"Two days give or take."

"We can discuss the results before you leave."

"Alright, see you then."

Dr. Webber wrote him the orders for the various tests and booked them for later that day. It wouldn't take long and House would have the rest of the day to rest and waste time until the results surfaced.

By the time the tests were over he was sick of throwing the 'I'm a doctor and no I don't need your assistance' look. He was done being poked and prodded, scanned and made small talk to.

He was contemplating just going to the hotel and crashing, but thoughts kept interfering. After driving for sometime he reached a secluded park and found a picnic table. A nap atop the table while basking in the sun seemed like a perfect plan. That's just what he did.


	5. Chapter 5

The Rogue Pinkie

Ch. 5

The cell phone rang. The ID said restricted, but House knew who it was, Webber. Trying to see the screen after being asleep in the sun was a difficult task but he managed to utter a hello and got a response.

"Dr. House?"

"Yea."

"We have your results back."

"And?"

"It could be one of two things."

"Which are." He was thinking 'I wish this guy would stop beating around the bush. On with it!'

"What you thought originally, the Parkinson's. Or it could be a tumor creating Parkinson's symptoms."

"So it's either Parkinson's or a tumor?"

"I'm afraid so."

"How long do I have?"

"We don't even know which one it is yet."

"How long do I have?"

"In order to figure that out we have decided this…" House cut him off.

"Alright I'm listening."

"We are going to start you on Levodopa to treat the Parkinson's symptoms. If you get better and show no other symptoms then we will know its Parkinson's. If you get worse, as in frequent headaches, more tremors in different areas, etc. then we will do another CT."

He managed an "Ok, I will be in to pick up the script," but was still in shock. This doctor was treating him just like he treats his patients; he just doesn't tell them that he doesn't know what's wrong.

Both weren't comforting diagnoses but he was hoping for a tumor. That meant that it had potential to come out and then he could have his brain back. Parkinson's meant slow deterioration and he would eventually lose his mind, which would mean that he would lose his job.

After picking up the script, which was a bunch of blue round pills, he left the office and proceeded to pack to go home. The Levodopa or L-dopa, could cause multiple side effects which would affect driving so he decided to take them once at home. He had one thing left to do once he got on the road. Call Wilson.

Wilson had been leaving a message or two a day, knowing that he wouldn't get a response but hoped for one. Wilson had suffered enough, and had been a good friend. Giving House just enough space was a talent that he had perfected over the years.

It only rang twice and then Wilson picked up.

"You're ready to talk now?"

"No."

"Then why'd you call?"

"I'll be home in about 4 hours. Pizza and beer at my place?"

"Sure." Wilson smiled with mixed emotions. It must be big if House offered food.

"See ya." And he hung up.

Wilson sat back in his chair and smiled. He rubbed his eyes and then sat up. House was coming home. He might be ill but he wasn't ill enough to be hospitalized. So that meant whatever it is, Wilson might be able to help him through it. He ran through the possibilities in his head any chance he got, and couldn't wait to see him again.


	6. Chapter 6

The Rogue Pinkie

Ch. 6

Pulling into his usual spot, House wasn't surprised to see that his apartment light was on. He even hoped that it was. He didn't want to be alone tonight, but telling Wilson that up front was hard enough. So seeing that he was already there was a good sign.

Upon his entrance he found the couch occupied by his friend, along with pizza ready in the kitchen and beer on the coffee table. Seeing it he realized, with the L-dopa he couldn't drink. He didn't know how he was going to avoid that one, but would only worry about it if Wilson brought it up.

"So how was your drive?"

"Long and tiring." He said while sitting down next to him on the couch and popping a Vicodin.

"If you're hungry there's pizza in the kitchen."

"Yea."

They sat back and watched some TV. The suspense was killing them both, House didn't want to get started and knew that Wilson wanted to know what was up. After a few minutes House let out of a sigh. Wilson turned and looked at him.

"It's not good."

"Oh." Wilson's whole facial expression told what he was feeling. Thinking the worst, which was very unfortunate.

"It's either…" he got cut off by Wilson.

"You're pinkie."

"What?"

"Its….its…" they both looked at it failing and squirming about.

"Not again." House retorted. He got up and went to the table where he placed his keys and his prescription. He didn't want to take it until he and Wilson had run their own tests and saw the results but he couldn't wait, not tonight. Locating the bottle, pinkie still twitching he tried like hell to get the top off. Soon his whole hand was twitching and he couldn't do it.

"Damn it!" He exclaimed.

Wilson was quick to get up and calmly open the bottle. Handing House one pill he read the bottle while House leaned again the desk and let the pill start working. Soon his hand stopped moving and he took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and rested his head back.

"Parkinson's? You have Parkinson's?"

"No."

"That's what L-dopa is for."

"I know." He paused then opened his eyes and faced Wilson. "I could have it or I could have a tumor. Webber said that either could be causing this tremor."

"Oh."

"His decision was to use L-dopa to decide. We need to run our own tests and I'll diagnose it."

"He did what you always do."

"I know."

"You think it's a tumor instead?"

"I hope it is."

"So do I."

"Well you'd know tumor as well as anyone. Help a brother out?"

He looked at him with his big brown eyes, swimming with fear, sadness and flashed him a small bittersweet smile. "Sure. Anything."

"You're not gonna hug me now are ya?"

"I thought about it."

House smirked. "Come here."

They did embrace. House felt akward but he knew that his friend needed reassurance. "You know I'm not going anywhere. Not for a while."

"I know but that doesn't stop me from thinking that you might."

They released each other and were resumed their original stances.

"That pizza any good?"

Wilson smiled. House was still House.

"Yeah but you know that I have to drink your beer now."

"Dr. Wilson is back I see."


	7. Chapter 7

The Rogue Pinkie

Ch. 7

If Wilson was anything like House he was good at stealing expensive scans from the hospital. On many occasions Wilson had set up a CT or MRI for House without question, for he already knew the answer to why he was stealing the scan.

They made up names to cover who the test really was for. Dr. Feelgood, Baba O'Riley and Mc Jagger where all on the list. If Cuddy knew, she didn't say anything. So here they were again, House in the CT and Wilson manning the controls.

Wilson smirked as he remembered the time he pulled the "House, this is God." Stunt and had a conversation while the CT was in motion. This time House was just as scared as he was then, but Wilson decided against a whole amusing skit. Once the scan was over House came to where Wilson was and they looked at the scans right then. House didn't put on a gown, just sweats and underwent the test shirtless.

They were looking at the screens; House had put on a shirt and they were silent while studying them. They both knew what was going on how, seeing the foreign material in House's brain. It was a tumor, not Parkinson's. They both let out a sigh for that finding. A tumor could be difficult but it could be removed, Parkinson's cannot. Soon they heard someone on the other side of the door.

"I thought you locked it." House said to Wilson.

"I did." Soon they heard a key in the door.

They both looked at each other, their faces saying 'shit we are so dead.'

They were soon face to face with Cuddy. Seeing them together and House wearing clothing even he wouldn't wear to work she knew something was up.

"Nothing." House said.

"Just planning treatment for a patient."

"And that patient just happens to be my world class diagnostician."

House gathered his cane and left. He mumbled on his way by. "Trying to treat the golf ball sized matter in my brain. Is that ok with you?"

Once he was gone it was just Cuddy and Wilson.

"Is he right?" She asked, afraid that what he said was true.

"Yes. He has a golf ball sized tumor in his frontal lobe."

"That's what New York was about?"

"Yea. We need some time off."

"Sure. Just let me know."

"Alright, I have to go find him now."

"I'll call you later and we can talk."

"Fine."

Wilson left Cuddy alone in the room with House's scans. They didn't need them right now anyways. Cuddy was staring at them, seeing what really looked like a golf ball in House's brain. Big, round and white. She was thinking 'don't let it be cancer.'


	8. Chapter 8

The Rogue Pinkie

Ch. 8

"Where's House?" Wilson entered the conference room neighboring House's office. The ducklings were all sitting there, quite astonished at what they just saw. What they just experienced was House, wearing sweats, barging into his office and locking all the doors and drawing the shades. Cameron informed Wilson that House had locked himself in his office and they didn't know what he was doing or what was going on. "You'll find out later."

Wilson knew exactly how to get to House. He went into his own office and jumped the balcony divider. House was on his balcony.

"House?"

"We are going to cut it out." He paused. "We are going to cut it out and I could lose my memory. I could lose my damn job!"

Wilson knew to expect a violent rein from House. He usually got angry about stuff like this. At this time Wilson couldn't help but laugh. Laugh at how the famous House missed a key part of his own CT. So Wilson laughed.

"What the hell are you laughing at?!" Now his anger was raging full force. Wilson was afraid that he might get hit with the cane.

"You're tumor isn't in your brain."

"What?"

"It's more on top of your brain, compressing your frontal lobe, which is what is causing your muscle spasms." There was a pause so House could take it in. "The pinkie twitch is because of the pressure on that part of your brain. The sooner we remove it the less damage will be experienced."

House sat down. He was trying to process it, but he didn't look very good.

"You ok?"

House clutched his head.

"My frontal lobe hurts. Why didn't I feel it before?"

"You're leg pain probably. One pain compensating for another." Wilson kneeled next to him. "Let's go take another Vicodin and I'll call around to some neurologists I know. Let's take that golf ball out."

House smirked.

Wilson ended up taking House home and then went back to work only after he knew House would be alright for the remainder of the day. The phone calls were made; the appointment was for two days from now. A surgeon from New York was coming to Princeton so that they wouldn't have to travel.

"Hunter's coming from New York in two days. You need to make sure we have an OR, a room and everything."

"Fine. It will all get done. Don't you worry. Just focus on him and his recovery. How is House doing?"

Wilson sighed. "We went home and he turned Spiderman on. He said that he wanted to forget his life for a while and focus on the superhero he wishes he was."

Cuddy smiled. She always knew there was a little kid in House somewhere. Wilson continued talking.

"We haven't really discussed the surgery. Except for the little part he told me. I had to explain to him where the tumor was and what it was doing." He stopped and looked down. The whole situation was already stressing him out and Cuddy could tell.

"How are you doing?"

He looked up, trying to hold his emotion in.

"He was so scared he miss read the CT. I'm trying to be strong for him but what if I can't keep it up?"

"You will be fine. He knows you're scared. He needs you whether you're scared or strong. Just be there for him."

"I'll try." He just realized what time it was. "I have to go. Finish my appointments and get back to him."

"Ok if I stop by later?"

"Yea, sure." He smiled. "Thanks."

"No problem."

Returning around five, Wilson found House watching Spiderman 2.

"Still being a superhero?"

"Yea, gonna save MJ this time."

He sat down on the arm rest. House taking up the whole couch.

"How are you doing?"

"Ok. Besides the obvious."

"Understandable."

Wilson could read House and knew that he just wanted to watch TV. So Wilson washed the dishes, made dinner and was just the friend House needed. Considering the day House had just had he went to bed early. After taking two Vicodin he turned in and Wilson was fine with it. They exchanged good nights and Wilson turned down the TV. He really hoped House wasn't hiding something from him, that he could read how House was feeling today.

There was a soft knock at the door around ten PM. Cuddy was hoping that Wilson would be sleeping on the couch and that he would hear her. He checked the peep hole, even though he knew it would be Cuddy. She did say she would come by, just not this late.

"Hey." He opened the door and found Cuddy carrying a duffle bag.

"Hi." She came in and Wilson closed the door. "Where's House?"

"He turned in early. Stress makes him tired sometimes."

"Yeah I can see that."

"What's the bag for?"

"Oh this." She set it down next to the piano. "Just some stuff I figured you guys might want for the….well you know. When you stay at the hospital you need some stuff to be comfortable."

"Yeah. So what's in there?"

"It's silly really. You know those blankets and pillows where you take two pieces of fleece and cut the sides then tie them together?"

"Yeah I've seen them."

"Well there's a pillow and matching blanket in there for each of you. Along with an air mattress. Figure you might want something better than a hospital reclining chair to sleep on."

"You didn't have to do that. Thanks."

Cuddy stayed and talked with Wilson for a while. He needed to get out his feelings of the situation before he exploded. Cuddy understood and helped Wilson out. She told him that everything was all set for when the surgeon came. If they needed to work before that date then that was fine, if they wanted to take it easy she understood that too. She really spoiled these two. They said their goodbyes and Wilson tried to sleep. He hoped that House would feel better tomorrow but prepared for a House meltdown, and that was never pretty.


	9. Chapter 9

**The again in the chapter part means that this is the second time I've attempted this chapter. Hope you enjoy it. Thanks for all your support this far. **

**PS watch out for the curse words that come from House's mouth, but come on, give the guy a break. He's got a golf ball in his head.**

The Rogue Pinkie

Ch. 9 again

They were staying home. It was a fact. Wilson called in for them and Cuddy completely understood. Between the forecasted rain and the unpredictable moods House would be experiencing in the next couple days, Wilson thought he would spare the ducklings and battle House himself. They both woke up at their regular times. Wilson around 7 and House around 9. Neither had changed for work, but Wilson showered and dressed casual. He was watching television when House wandered out and sat in the recliner. Putting up the footrest he popped a Vicodin and inquired what they were watching.

"You can go back to bed you know. We aren't going to work today."

"Obviously."

"Seriously. You can go sleep."

"I'm going to be in a bed for like the next two weeks at least, I want to sit in my chair and on my couch while I still can."

"So how are you doing today?"

"Well besides the rain making me want to rip my leg off and the pain in my forehead I'd say its ok."

Wilson rolled his eyes. House was pretty sarcastic and a little depressed which wasn't a good combo.

They made it through lunch without a melt down. Wilson made some pasta and they were fine, until House dropped something. He was still sitting in his chair, all comfortable. He got up to put the dishes in the sink and got a little dizzy. Sitting up and walking after sitting in one place for three hours didn't do his head so well. House ended up on the floor and the glass broke leaving water all over. That was the last straw for House, all that stress was bottled up for too long.

First he sighed and just closed his eyes. Of course Wilson said something.

"You ok?"

"No! Fuck me I'm not ok!"

"Ok."

"No it's not ok! This could be my last day when I can do things for myself and I can't fuckin' do them! I need you to help me, constantly!" He paused and tried to get up. The cane was no where in sight and that just made it worse. "Fuck! I can't even get off the floor without your damn help!"

Wilson said nothing and just helped him to the bathroom. House took a shower while Wilson cleaned up the mess. He laid out clean clothing and on a whim put the new blanket Cuddy brought him in the chair.

House returned to the living room in new sweats and a t-shirt, but this time he had some socks on. Wilson tried to ignore him while he was limping back to the chair, but it was hard to ignore the stiffness he walked with. He sat in the chair and covered himself with the new blanket.

"How are ya?" He dared ask him again.

"Freezing. Where'd this blanket come from?"

"Cuddy. She brought a pillow with the same print and a set for me as well. She's looking out for us."

"Someone's got to." House remarked and turned his attention to the television.

"You're cold? Wasn't the shower hot?"

"Yeah. That's just weird."

Wilson got up and placed one hand on House's forehead and another on his wrist. His pulse was slow but he didn't feel warm.

"Look at me."

House turned his attention away from the show and said "What?" With that turn Wilson grabbed House's jaw and held his head. Looking into his pupils he saw that they looked a little dilated. Even with flashing the light in his eyes they were dilated. The light made House's head hurt.

"Ow."

"Come on we gotta go."

"Why?"

"You feel nauseous?"

"No."

"You're going to."

"How do you know?"

"Warning signs of ICP. Let's go before I have to drill a hole in your head while you're still in your house."

House was a little confused but got the gist of what Wilson was saying. He obeyed and made his way to the car. Wilson drove, he would come back later and get some things, pack their bags. Right now they had to go, before House suffered from the results that Intracranial Pressure can create.


	10. Chapter 10

The Rogue Pinkie

Ch. 10

It was three days after the hurried drive to the hospital, in the race to save House's skull from a burr hole. Since that drive the two of them had been through hell, and they looked like it. Wilson was exhausted and House was unconscious.

The pressure was relieved with medication and a little luck. As for the surgery to remove the tumor it occurred as scheduled and the tumor was removed with clear margins. No cancer, which was a huge relief on Wilson. Sure he treated patients with cancer daily, but he couldn't bear to have to treat his best friend.

Their three days played out avoid burr hole, cut head open, extract foreign matter, avoid cancer, sleep, recover. They were still in the sleep stage. Wilson and House had a private room. There was only one bed, but there was room to use the mattress Cuddy had given them. While House was in and out of consciousness Wilson didn't work. He sat around watching television, reading and monitoring his friend closely. Occasionally Cuddy would come relieve him from his post and he would go eat.

And then one day House stayed conscious long enough to have a coherent conversation. Wilson was there reading and dozing when he heard movement. House had raised his hand to the top of his head and felt the bandages. Then he found the IV and glanced at all the meds he was on. Lastly he found the catheter.

"Fill me up and empty me out, I see how you are."

"Hello to you too." He said with a smile. House tried to say more but his throat was dry from the sleep so Wilson gave him some water and filled him in on his condition.

"No cancer, the tumor is 100 out of your head. Sorry about your hair, hope it grows back. We might he here a few more days to make sure you don't lose any function but then you're home free."

"Yeah, I'm a doctor too."

Wilson made a mental note of no apparent mental depression so far.

House sat the bed up and closed his eyes.

"Dizzy?"

"Little bit."

"Almost two days of sleep will do that to you."

"I know."

'Yeah he's fine' Wilson said to himself.

"Good to have you back."

"Good to be among the conscious again."

Wilson had to work one morning. His colleague had gotten a patient and she was beyond his care so he referred her to Wilson. House was still asleep when he needed to leave so he left him with Cuddy. House might not like that, but he would kill a duckling.

Cuddy had a fine time until House woke up. Today was not a good day. He was uncomfortable. First he just tried to readjust positions without having to open his eyes. That would have worked if he didn't have the bedding in a tangled mess. Cuddy saw him struggling and laid a hand gently on his forearm. He sprung open his eyes and looked at the unfamiliar touch.

"Cuddy." He said.

"How can I help you?"

He just sighed and threw his head back against the pillow. He was tired and just wanted to sleep. Luckily she read this and helped fix his blankets.

She asked, "Too hot? Too cold?" Hoping that answer might help her help him. He just grunted in reply and was out again.

"Guess not." She said out loud and resumed her reading in the neighboring chair.


	11. Chapter 11

**I must say that I think this is the last chapter. If you disagree, feel its not finished or what have you, send a PM or review my way. If you're convincing enough I will update again...maybe. Thanks for all your reviews so far, enjoy the end.**

The Rogue Pinkie

Ch. 11

"You can't go back to work yet."

"Don't you tell me what I can and can't do!" House was huffy.

"We have only been home two days. Your head was cut open three days ago, and crap was pulled out of it."

"My head is resilient. Its better and I need to make my brain work!"

"Your brain works just fine. Come sit down."

"No." He walked into the kitchen and faced out the window. Wilson approached slowly and talked again in a lighter tone.

"You know you need to let your head heal before you start downing more Vicodin and racking your brain to solve the puzzle." He paused and waited. "Take some time, I'm here." He wanted to go on about how House might feel and blah blah blah but he didn't. He sat back down on the couch. House came over and sat next to him.

"Feel better now?"

"Yes. Much." He smiled. "Where's General Hospital? It's time you know."

Wilson grunted. "I know."

The fact that Wilson could talk House down from a meltdown was proof that House wasn't ready to work yet. They had both been through a lot in a small amount of time; they needed time off to process and would be back with time. House was always one to rush things, Wilson had learned long ago that things needed time.

They had been through hell and back at least twice now. From colds to infarctions and tumors. From divorce to divorce, from break up to being alone. They suffered together. They survived together. And now, through medicine and friendship they would live together again.


End file.
